The Pursuit of Happiness
by Old Romantic
Summary: B-day fic for yumytaffy. Ned, Chuck, Emerson, and Olive are stuck in a cabin with only Trivial Pursuit to entertain them. Ned/Chuck


**Disclaimer:** *sob* _Pushing Daisies _canceled_, _nooooooo! (And, no, I don't own PD or Trivial Pursuit, which is manufactured by one of those toy conglomerates – Hasbro, according to my quick internet search. The questions, however, which were found on other websites online – along with one I made up – are _not _official TP questions.)

**Summary:** B-day fic for **yumytaffy**. Her prompt: The gang is stuck in a cabin with only Trivial Pursuit to entertain them. :)

**A/N: **What? It's only three weeks late. ;) Good thing **yumytaffy** lurves me. :D *huggles* Many thanks to **htbthomas** for the beta! :)

Hope you like it! Enjoy!! :D

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It had been two weeks, six days, four hours, and twenty-seven minutes since Charlotte "Chuck" Charles had the bright idea for a little getaway for her and her childhood sweetheart, Ned the Piemaker. And while at the Pie Hole, an unsuspecting Ned was also making plans for the weekend, Olive Snook was devising her own plan, hoping to soothe her broken heart by trying once more to pretend she was happy with being just friends with the Piemaker and his beloved, pretending-to-be-dead girlfriend, Chuck.

Charlotte Charles was the first to make mention of her idea, hurrying into the kitchen of the Pie Hole with her hands covered in thick ski gloves. Ned, too, had his hands donned with gloves, but his were of the oven mitt variety as he took one of his famous pies out of the oven – a strawberry kiwi delight with a crumb topping. He took a deep breath of the pie as he spun to set it on the island and Chuck startled him by asking, "What are you doing this weekend?"

After an initial jump at her sudden appearance, Ned replied, "A-actually, I had an idea—"

"Well, cancel your plans," she grinned like a feline that had just enjoyed a delicious meal of a fresh bird. "We're going skiing."

"Skiing? How did you—?"

She interrupted again, leaning on the island beside him. "It just kind of came to me. Playing snow sports are one of the only times you're covered completely from head to toe. See?" she said, touching his arm with her fully padded glove, snuggling up next to him and making him smile.

"You're right. The funny thing is – I had the same idea for this weekend."

"Ooo, see? Great minds _do_ think alike."

He slipped his oven-mitted hand around her and admitted, "Well, that and the fact that I was tipped off when the cabin rental place called to confirm my credit card number…" Her expression waned. "But, still, it's just as romantic."

"Yeah, I had to use your credit card for the reservation. I hope you don't mind." She grinned cheekily. "Dead girls don't have any credit."

"Formerly dead girls," he corrected, and they were in the middle of a plastic-wrap kiss she'd initiated when Olive Snook entered the room.

"Don't make any plans," she loudly announced, breaking them up without hesitation. "We're going skiing this weekend."

Ned and Chuck quickly parted and both repeated in shock, "'We'??"

"Yep," her smile widened. "I found this brochure in our apartment and I thought, 'What the hay?' so I went ahead and made reservations for the three of us."

"That was my brochure," Chuck revealed. "Ned and I already made plans to go together this weekend."

Ned went on, "Yes, and I was hoping someone would stay and watch the Pie Hole while we're gone."

Olive's face scrunched. "No way! If you can close the Pie Hole for Christmas and Easter, you can close it this weekend. I deserve a vacation too, mister," she finished, smacking him with one of her gloves as she walked past him to cut up one of the pies that had already cooled.

Ned sighed and looked to Chuck, shrugging. "I _guess_ we could…"

"We'll still have our own room," Chuck winked and hurried to get to work.

Near closing time, when they hadn't seen Emerson Cod all day, the trio assumed he must be busy on a case of the usual kind – one that didn't require Ned's magic finger to find murderers with the help of the murdered. They were all in the dining room cleaning up after the last of the customers when Emerson burst in with his hands full of skis, boots, and poles and already wearing the appropriate outerwear. "When do we leave?" he asked jovially, as if he'd been part of the planning and discussion that morning, to which they knew he had not been a witness.

Olive was the first to stand in front of Emerson and narrow her eyes at him. "How did you know what the three of us are doing this weekend?"

"How did I know?" he repeated incredulously. "Please, madam, I am a professional in this business. I know everything about your achingly boring, little lives."

Ned let out a breath. "You planted a bug in my kitchen, didn't you?"

Emerson's way of not answering was enough of an answer for Ned, who stepped forward a foot. "Do you listen to everything we say – or _do_ – in there?"

"No," he stated dryly. "And considering how uninteresting your pathetic love life is, I'm glad I don't." He smirked. "But it has been profitable, especially in situations like this." He then glared at all of them in turn. "And I _am_ going with you all this weekend," he said, finalizing his intentions.

"Why?"

He snorted, "Like I'm going to pass up two free nights at a ski resort."

Putting her hands on her hips, Olive narrowed her eyes. "Who said anything about free?"

"Well, you do have two whole cabins," he revealed his knowledge on the subject, obviously from listening in with the help of his kitchen bugs, "and each one has a bedroom and a fold-out couch, so…" He smirked.

Knowing they were beat, Chuck smiled optimistically for the three of them. "And here I thought we'd overbooked."

- - - - - - -

A grinning clerk at the rental office with the name of Joy Lovejoy gave the foursome the keys to their cabins and pointed them in the right direction with the help of the resort's map. Their accommodations were in walking distance from each other, a short drive to the slopes, and fully furnished and equipped with all the amenities of home.

After a bit of discussion on the drive up the mountain in Emerson's car, it was decided that he would room with Olive while Ned and Chuck shared the other cabin. "But we're spending the evenings together," Olive insisted with a grin at the couple in the back seat. "I brought board games."

"Great," Emerson had droned, unenthusiastic about the prospect.

With no assistance from Emerson, Olive joyfully struggled with the small stack of board games as they walked the equivalent of a few blocks to their friends' cabin to spend the evening. Juggling the boxes in hand when it was clear Emerson wasn't going to be the one to knock, Olive managed to rap on the door. Ned answered and immediately took the stack from her and she smiled and sighed as the two guests stepped inside.

Chuck emerged from the bedroom, dressed down in sweats, and rubbed her hands together. "So, what are we playing?" she asked excitedly.

"Depends," Emerson answered first. "What are we eating?"

"Oh," Chuck responded, slightly stunned by the question. "All we brought is junk food. And pies, of course."

Emerson took the wing chair adjacent to the couch and held up one finger. "I'll take a slice of whatever you got." He looked to Olive. "Oh, and Blondie, make me some hot tea." He gestured to his neck, "Throat's a little scratchy."

Again, Olive's hands landed on her hips. "Hey, I'm not working today."

"Yeah, but you were headed that way, anyway," he blinked innocently up at her.

"Ohhh," she slowly gave in with a sigh. "Alright. But I'm not taking orders from you for the rest of the weekend," she said with a pointed finger of warning – not that she thought he would believe her, nor did she _really_ mean it. She'd probably never resist anything he asked for with those big, brown, puppy-dog eyes. She knew he could really be charming if he just tried a little bit harder.

It was sometime during their third game - Pictionary – that all the players began to drift off to sleep, save Olive. She was busy trying to illustrate "The Iceman Cometh" and when she finally finished and turned around with a grin, she found that the rest of them were no longer awake. "Come on, you guys," she whined, and not a one of them reacted. She tried shaking each of them to no avail and finally sat down in her spot on the couch in a huff.

Realizing she suddenly felt as tired as they all looked, she said to no one in particular, "Well, if you can't beat 'em…" Scooting down so that she could rest her head on the back of the couch just as Chuck and Ned had, she too joined the rest of them in slumber.

Ned woke first when his head rolled and a crick in his neck sent a shooting pain throughout the rest of his body. Sitting up with a quiet moan, he carefully avoided touching Chuck and got up from the couch, blinking his dry eyes. Somehow, they'd _all_ fallen asleep and left the fire burning until it went out on its own. There was a definite chill in the air, and after he got a pot of coffee brewing, he planned ahead to start a fire.

The windows he passed on the way to the kitchen were white and icy and he half-smiled, knowing it must've snowed during the night, which would make their plans for skiing that much better. He got the coffee brewing and stood to wait, but this particular pot was much slower than the one at the Pie Hole and Ned glared at it, hoping to speed its percolating as he tapped his fingertips on the counter.

"Do I smell coffee?" Chuck's voice sang from behind Ned and he automatically smiled, as always, having to remind himself not to turn and fold the woman he loved into his arms. He had to settle for sharing his smile with her instead.

Gesturing over his shoulder with his head, Ned mentioned, "It snowed last night."

"I'll say," she replied, moving to the closest window, where she hugged herself. "It's all white and pretty outside. Can't even see any trees." She peered more intently. "Wait…"

Olive's voice from the living room interrupted her, "Uh, guys? I think we may have a problem."

Ned and Chuck hurried back into the room and found Olive standing in front of the open door, only…there was no way to get outside. Packed snow covered the entire front of the cabin, well above the height of the door. "I was just trying to go out to get some wood," Olive complained.

Chuck thought out loud, "I can't believe it snowed that much," just as Emerson awoke to the sounds of their voices.

"What the hell?" Emerson asked rhetorically as he stood up from the chair where he spent the night. "Oh no, don't you tell me I'm trapped in here with Inky, Blinky, and Dinky all weekend."

Olive leaned over to Chuck, narrowed her eyes, and whispered, "He'd better not be calling one of us 'Dinky'."

"No, no," Ned assured all of them. "I'm sure they'll come by with a plow soon and dig us out."

Emerson pointed out, "Down this embankment? On the side of this mountain this cabin is parked on?" Without waiting for an answer, he complained, "I _knew _this was a bad idea. Now I wish I _had _brought that sweater I was working on."

"We'll just call for help," Ned insisted, pointing to the phone, and Chuck picked it up, since she was the closest.

After a second, she clicked the button on the cradle to hang it up and let it go to try again. Then she held the receiver out to Ned. "It's dead."

He cautiously took the phone from her and listened for himself, finding that she was right. Hanging it up, he tried to continue his optimism. "They'll dig us out. We'll just wait, and we'll be fine."

"Great," Emerson mumbled. "Who's up to making breakfast out of a bunch of junk food?"

By mid-afternoon, the quartet was on the third round of Trivial Pursuit they were playing just to occupy themselves while they waited to be sprung from their snow-drenched prison, when Emerson sighed.

"If I don't get to ski on this trip, I am not going to be a happy person," he complained.

"Are you _ever_ a happy person?" Olive asked pointedly as she held one of the playing cards in her hand, as it was her turn to ask the question.

Emerson narrowed his eyes at her. "Was that my Pie question?"

"No, silly goose," Olive bantered back. "I was just wondering."

"Ask me again after we've been dug out of this hellhole."

"Okay, fine," she conceded and read off the card in her hand, "'Who is the most voluptuous female in Toontown?'"

"Jessica Rabbit," Emerson replied emotionlessly and stuck his plastic piece of "pie" into his game piece. "Your turn, Pie Man."

Ned took the dice in his hand and rolled them, moving his piece the appropriate number of spaces. "Ugh," he whined, "History."

Emerson leaned forward long enough to grab the box of cards and pulled one out, reading, "'Over which country did Pan Am flight 103 crash in December 1988?'"

"Oh, I remember that," Olive proclaimed as Ned thought of his answer.

He opened his mouth to make a guess when Emerson made a buzzing sound and then said, "Time's up."

"Emerson," Chuck chided. "You didn't even give him a chance."

"He was never going to get it anyway. It was Scotland." He slipped the card in the back of the box and set it on the end of the table closest to Ned.

"He's right," Ned replied. "I would've never gotten that." He frowned, but perked up as he looked to his left. "Chuck?"

She picked up the dice from the table with a half-smile at her boyfriend and tossed them. "Seven," she read and moved. "Entertainment. Good," she rubbed her hands together excitedly.

Ned read, "'What 1961 movie has Audrey Hepburn note: "Personally, I think it's a bit tacky to wear diamonds before I'm 40"?'"

"Oh, _Breakfast at Tiffany's._ I love that movie," Chuck said dreamily. "And the music. I could listen to 'Moon River'all day."

"And has," Olive revealed with a roll of her eyes. "Okay, my turn." She rolled and moved and listened to Chuck ask her question:

"'What was a gladiator armed with, in addition to a dagger and spear?'"

She slumped against the back of her chair. "Oh, like I'm going to know that. A shield?"

Chuck shook her head. "A net."

"Oh, poo. What would they do with that? Catch fish?"

Nobody had an answer, so the game moved on. Emerson didn't know the answer to how tall the Eiffel Tower was – 984 feet – and when it was Ned's turn, he quickly answered the question about which fruits were crossed to produce the nectarine.

"None. The nectarine is a smooth-skinned variety of the peach," Ned answered easily.

Emerson's eyes narrowed. "You read the answer."

"No," he shrugged.

"You got the answer right word-for-word. That can't be a coincidence."

"I work with fruit."

"I think you've seen this question before."

"Are you accusing me of cheating?"

"Of not being an honest player, yes, I am."

Chuck and Olive both sensed the argument that was building, but the two men were talking so quickly that they couldn't get a word in edgewise. Emerson was not-so-politely reminding Ned of their agreement at the beginning of the game, in which they would stop playing when they reached the end of the cards, or at least mention when they got a question they'd already heard before, so that no one would have an advantage. But Ned sincerely hadn't heard this one.

"I _am_ being honest," Ned said, still in protest. "I've never heard this question. I just know about fruit. I work with it _every day._"

"He does, Emerson," Chuck added when there was a lull in Emerson's dispute. "I've caught him studying about fruit at the Pie Hole," she said as if revealing a secret.

Ned stared at her for a moment, and the two shared flirtatious and blushing grins.

"I _still_ don't believe you," Emerson went on, almost unnoticed by Ned and Chuck.

Olive stood up between the three of them and proclaimed, "Okay, I think we're all suffering what's called 'cabin fever', here." She looked to the couple. "And you two: get a room, for crying out loud." She held up her hand in front of Ned's face when she knew he was going to say something argumentative – namely that they _had_ planned to be alone before the storm trapped them all inside. She prodded, "Let's try to just finish this game and then we'll move on to something else. We've got to stay friendly until we get out of here, or we're going to be miserable. Let's just believe that Ned is telling the truth, okay?" she specifically aimed at Emerson.

"Mmhmm," Emerson muttered disbelievingly, eyeing Ned suspiciously, but still allowing the game to continue on without pursuing the disagreement any further.

Chuck's turn didn't earn her a pie, so it passed to Olive's chance, and she rolled and landed on the pie space she needed. But before she set her piece down, she held it up with a wry grin. "Anybody else think it's funny that we spend most of our lives in the Pie Hole and we're playing a game where we –"

"—have to earn pieces of pie," they all chimed in and finished her sentence.

Emerson added dryly, "We already had this discussion four hours ago."

"Oh. Yeah," she clammed up and sat back in her chair.

"Okay," Chuck reminded her, "get this one right and we can move on to something else."

"Yes, something else – _anything _else," Emerson droned. "I could have that sweater finished and be _wearing_ it by now."

Ignoring their friend's whining, Chuck read, "'In what 1991 film would you find Idgie, Ninny, Sipsey, and Smokey Lonesome?'"

"OH! I know this one." She squeezed her eyes shut as she thought hard about her answer. "It had Jessica Tandy it – oh, and Kathy Bates. Did you know she could sing?" she asked Chuck with a giggle. "After I saw her in _Misery_, I was terrified of her, but then –"

"The_ answer_," Emerson prodded, rolling his eyes.

"Oh. Right." She went back to thinking. "Oh-OH! _Fried Green Tomatoes!_" she bounced in her seat.

"Yes!" Chuck cheered for her friend, who hugged her.

"Finally," Emerson said, standing to stretch. His stomach growled in response and his face grimaced as he rubbed his mid-section. "I'm going to need something more than pie and potato chips if we're gonna be stuck here much longer."

Ned's head tilted slightly and he thought out loud, "Do I hear an engine running?"

All four rushed to the door and front windows and listened intently, in fact hearing the sounds of an engine. "I think it's a tractor," Olive guessed. "It sounds just like the one—"

"Thank _God_," Emerson said emphatically.

"Seriously," Olive agreed. "I don't like you very much when you haven't had food."

Emerson turned to collect his jacket and shoes, mumbling something under his breath - but the others only understood the word "mutual" and knew that he was just cranky. "I'm going to that restaurant by the entrance to this place if anybody wants to join me," he said and the others agreed it was a good idea.

As soon as their front door was cleared, they knew it because someone knocked. It was the manager of the cabin rentals who quickly apologized for their confinement. "We weren't expecting such a bad storm and then had to get the tractor running," she told them. "I hope you weren't too inconvenienced."

"It's okay; we understand," Olive allowed for all of them, although Emerson quickly pushed past her – partly smiling cordially to the manager – to the outside, going toward his cabin he was supposed to share with Olive, waving back to them as he walked.

All they heard him say was, "Meet you at the car," before he was out of sight over the hill.

The three continued their conversation with the manager, who promised to have the phone working by the time they returned, and offered their last night's stay there at no charge, plus a free night to use on another occasion. Ned gladly accepted it for the rest of them and then apologetically announced, "We have to go. I'm afraid he's going to leave without us," referring to the hungry Emerson who'd practically sprinted off so quickly.

After their dinner, as they left the restaurant, Emerson was much more cordial to his friends, even apologizing for his earlier behavior. "Now you know how cranky I get when I don't have meat."

Olive hugged his side and said, "We know, Big Guy. Next time, we'll just have to bring—"

"'_Next_ time,' hmph," he wryly chuckled and they all stared at him, believing he wasn't ever going to vacation with them again. But he surprised them by putting his arm around Olive and finishing, "Next time, _I'll _bring the food. Just so I make sure I get what we _need_. Which, I found out today, is more than just pie."

They began to walk to the car and Chuck asked, "Does this mean we're not going to see you around the Pie Hole as much anymore?"

"Shoot, no," he rebutted. "You know I can't get through a day without a slice of your Mixed Berry. You ain't gettin' rid of me that easily."

"Good," Chuck laughed, hugging his other side; the wounds of the day were healed.

Once they were back in their respective cabins, Chuck went straight to the bedroom while Ned volunteered to tidy up the kitchen. But it didn't take him long, and as he was headed toward the back of the cabin, he heard Chuck call, "Ned, think you could help me with something?"

He entered the bedroom, realizing when he found it empty that she must be in the adjoining bathroom, and replied, "Sure. What with?"

"Oh," she proclaimed when she knew he was close. "Well, did you ever see that movie that we were talking about? _Fried Green Tomatoes_?"

"Yeeeeaaah," he rolled out on a long breath, wondering where she was going with this line of thinking.

"Well, you know that scene where Kathy Bates greets her husband at the door dressed just in plastic wrap?"

Eyes narrowed in interest, Ned walked to the door of the bathroom to see if she was indeed busy doing what he suspected, but was surprised to find that although her arms and legs were already wrapped, she was otherwise naked. His eyes then widened. "What are you doing?"

She shrugged. "I figured that if we can kiss through plastic wrap, then we can – I don't know – at least, _sleep_, holding each other."

His expression softened for this brilliant woman that he loved so dearly and his fought the overwhelming desire to kiss her. But that want reminded him, "What about your head?"

"I'll wear this ski mask," she waved it between them, "and just sleep facing away from you." She could see that he was already beginning to doubt the possibility of this working, so she pleaded, "At least for just a little while. Please?"

Just as with anything, he couldn't resist her and reached for the box of wrap. "And when you get too hot in this?"

"We'll open windows and put on our ski clothes."

Nodding in agreement, he carefully wrapped the rest of her body in the thin layer of plastic. Once she was completely covered, Ned stood back and surveyed their work.

"Well?" she asked, holding out her arms to each side. "What do you think?"

His eyes traveled down her shapely body and back up again, taking in the fact that he could still see everything he wanted to _and_ touch her at the same time. "Perfect," he summed up all his emotion in one word. Then he too put on gloves and a mask, just for safety's sake, and reached out for her…and folded her into his arms.

It was sometime in the middle of the night that Chuck had to get out of her plastic suit, and the two put on a full set of clothes, covering themselves from head to toe. Then they were able to lie back down in the same spooning position they'd been in throughout the night so far.

The next morning, when they met the other couple at their cabin to go to breakfast before heading to the slopes, smiles plastered their faces, making Olive curious. "What's up with you two?" she asked as she put on her own bright pink gloves and Emerson locked the door. "What'd you do last night?" she asked nosily.

Holding gloved hands, Chuck and Ned shared a look, and without taking her eyes off of him, she answered for the both of them, "Oh, nothing. We just…" she shrugged, "…went to sleep."

_~End_

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_If you'd like to request a b-day ficlet from me, go to **emstories** on Livejournal (dot com) to ask for one!_


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